


first flush of hope to carry the grey away

by brynnmclean (ilfirin_estel)



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: F/M, Not Quite Kissing for the Cover, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:27:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24255871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilfirin_estel/pseuds/brynnmclean
Summary: The stomp of Imperial boots is a sound they both know all too well.  Cassian’s heart rate picks up speed as the sound gets louder, and Jyn’s body tenses up in anticipation.  She keeps her blaster lowered, but carefully flicks the safety off and turns her head, stealing a glance over his shoulder.Cassian ruthlessly suppresses a shiver as her mouth brushes against his ear.A moment in an alley after escaping a fight.
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso
Comments: 25
Kudos: 134





	first flush of hope to carry the grey away

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all, it's been FOREVER, so this feels very rusty, but is hopefully fun! <3
> 
> Title is from [Wrest's "Hope Springs"](https://wrest.band/lyrics) which has been music I've found and loved through these weird times.

It goes bad fast, the way it sometimes does in a city ready to blow, a match flicked on a trail of fuel and sparking the firefight. Cassian dodges the first punch aimed for his face, but takes a hit from a glass someone throws at his back, and chaos descends where there could have been something else—not _clean,_ nothing is clean in this grimy cantina full of shadows and sharp teeth and _knives—_ that’s a knife in that informant’s hand, the blade catching the light as it arches toward Cassian and slices into his side.

Beneath the sharp flare of pain, Cassian’s brain registers, _not fatal,_ then snaps sharp back onto one track: escape.

He isn’t bad at hand-to-hand, but he doesn’t prefer it, and this is turning messy, bar patrons howling and joining the fray as their blood kicks up with anger and the thrill of a brawl. Sooner or later, someone will call security and ‘troopers will show up and Cassian has to be long gone before that happens. He tries to concentrate solely on the current fight, but he doesn’t like this, there are too many eyes, too much attention, and where is—

 _There._ Jyn is a whirlwind of grim anger darting in, handily taking out the turned informant and then shoving Cassian toward the exit. Flight instinct only partially buries the relief of seeing her and of leaving behind a corpse that can’t identify them.

“Go,” Jyn says, but Cassian’s already following her out, ignoring the pull of the wound in his side as they run in silence. In sync, they check their speed outside and come in close together, Jyn’s arm sliding around his torso—two lovers on a nighttime stroll.

“Careful,” Cassian warns just as Jyn slips her hand under his jacket and finds sticky-hot blood soaking his shirt. He bites the inside of his bottom lip to keep from hissing at the touch, then manages, “It’s fine, just—”

“We have to get back to the ship,” she finishes, putting a sliver of distance between them to stop pressing against him. “That’ll need stitches and a patch.”

“Unlucky.” 

Jyn nods, grimacing. Cassian thinks, _let’s hope our luck returns,_ but even that thought feels like a challenge to the universe.

It hasn’t all been a mess. This mission was supposed to be a respite for both of them—something relatively simple after combat heavy Pathfinder ops and solo trips keeping them apart. A chance to steal some time together while still working. And the day had been fine, unseasonably cold but calm.

The two of them had made good time through hyperspace, arriving ahead of schedule and with plenty of time to scout out the area around the meeting location with the contact. There had been a layer of frost creeping along the windows of buildings they’d passed in the early morning, winter’s defiant refusal to give in to the tentative bloom of green on the trees in the city’s parks. The air now smells a little like snow. The scent always snags at a deep, buried place in Cassian’s heart, but he’s well practiced at ignoring that aching memory of Fest. 

A siren pierces the quiet of the night, announcing the imminent arrival of ‘Troopers. Cassian’s gaze catches Jyn’s and both of them pick up the pace. Cassian’s side protests, but he shoves that pain underneath his mental map of the district.

“Shipyard’s far off,” he says. “But there’s a safehouse a few blocks from here.”

Jyn nods, tapping out a code on her comm for Bodhi and Kay off on their own planetside mission closer to the ship— _delayed,_ but _okay._ The comm crackles on and off rhythmically in response: _copy_ , _okay._

A knot of tension in Cassian’s shoulders eases for a moment, only to tighten up again when the filtered voices of ‘Troopers call out, telling someone streets ahead to get out of the way.

They keep moving forward, until a side-alley appears and without any discussion, they veer toward it. Jyn is faster, turning her back to the wall and drawing her blaster. Cassian catches the flash of white armor ahead and stumbles slightly in his attempt to cover the sight of her with his body.

He brackets her in, trying not to crowd her too much while also selling the image he thinks they’re both trying to present. He rests his hands against the brick wall instead of on her and angles his body so she’ll have a clear shot if she needs to take it.

The stomp of Imperial boots is a sound they both know all too well. Cassian’s heart rate picks up speed as the sound gets louder, and Jyn’s body tenses up in anticipation. She keeps her blaster lowered, but carefully flicks the safety off and turns her head, stealing a glance over his shoulder.

Cassian ruthlessly suppresses a shiver as her mouth brushes against his ear. A small part of him registers her warm breath on his skin and tucks the feeling away for further study, but most of him tries to stay focused on an escape route. Jyn’s hand tightens on his back, fisting in his jacket as the patrol moves closer.

“Come here,” Jyn murmurs, and for a second Cassian isn’t sure if she’s goading the ‘Troopers toward them so she can beat them down. She moves then and it isn’t how he expects her to—instead of pushing him out of the way so she can fight, she widens her stance and pulls him in closer, straddling his thigh. The grunt of surprise that tumbles out of his mouth is genuine; the moan she makes is _not._

In spite of the fact that he’s never—they _haven't_ —his mind skips as her hand slides up to the back of his head, her fingers sliding restlessly through his hair. Heat alights all through him, but he leans into it and tucks his face down into her neck, murmuring assent against her throat like a kiss. 

It’s all right, he can go where she leads him. He understands this is the cover: lovers making out in an alley. He wants to actually kiss her neck, but he won’t, not like this. He allows himself one touch as she presses up against him again, he takes one hand off the wall and splays his palm against her waist. Steadying her. 

She makes a breathless sound in his ear, but that one sounds less theatrical, more real. Not that he would know. He would like to know, but amidst the desire sparking to life inside him is also cold anxiety about overstepping her boundaries. Even here, even now when they’re selling an image, when _she_ pulled _him_ into her. There is barely any time, but his fingertips against her waist tap out a comm code: _okay, request status?_

The ‘Troopers are coming and hopefully passing right past them and on to the cantina or other business.

Jyn shifts again, so close, so _close_ —she is a trembling line of fire against him and all he can suddenly think about is sinking into her. “Okay,” she breathes hot into his ear, pressing her blaster hard against his hip. He holds himself steady. He is her shield.

As the patrol marches down the street, the world narrows down. Cassian marks the enemy stomping, his racing heart, Jyn’s careful breathing, the warm V of her legs against his thigh. His side aches and there’s a spill of wetness there still—his head is starting to feel light and hazy, though the burn in his chest tells him he might be holding his breath.

He closes his eyes for a moment and inhales Jyn’s scent—cheap Alliance soap, bar smoke, and whiskey… Snow. There’s a feather-light brush of something along the back of his neck. 

Quiet has resumed. He does not kiss Jyn’s pulse point though it beats against his lips. For a moment, they both stay there together against the wall, frozen.

Then Cassian forces himself away, taking a step back off Jyn. Snowflakes catch in Jyn’s eyelashes, the dim glow of the streetlights casting shadows across her face. Before he can say anything, she catches his hand and presses her thumb into his palm. Taps out _okay._ He’ll remember her tiny smile forever. “Let’s go.”


End file.
